The madman, who throws a stone into a crowded market, forgets that his own mother could be hit by his madness.
Related quotes
The one who throws the stone forgets; the one who is hit remembers forever.
He who throws a stone in the market will hit his relative.
Animal House
Morning is breaking with death on the street
Driving downtown in a red corvette
The daemons and satans are creeping around
La nights are madhouse nights
The murderers - are heroes
Theyre speeding all over the town
And justice - is drunken
Im tumbling upside down
Im a madman
Living in an animal house
Im a madman
Living in an animal house
Living in an animal house
Rockers in concert are serving the bible
Praying in public is getting a habit
For selling out everything seems to be right, oh yeah
The sunset is crowded with tramps passing out
Theyre sleeping - in trash cans
Theres witchcraft in everyones eyes
Satans and daemons
All dressed up in suits and ties
Im a madman
Living in an animal house
Im a madman
Living in an animal house
Madman - going crazy - living in an animal house
Im a madman...
song performed by by U. D. O.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Madman - His Parables and Poems
You ask me how I became a madman. It happened thus: One day, long
before many gods were born, I woke from a deep sleep and found all
my masks were stolen,--the seven masks I have fashioned an worn in
seven lives,--I ran maskless through the crowded streets shouting,
'Thieves, thieves, the cursed thieves.'
Men and women laughed at me and some ran to their houses in fear
of me.
And when I reached the market place, a youth standing on a house-top
cried, 'He is a madman.' I looked up to behold him; the sun kissed
my own naked face for the first time. For the first time the sun
kissed my own naked face and my soul was inflamed with love for
the sun, and I wanted my masks no more. And as if in a trance I
cried, 'Blessed, blessed are the thieves who stole my masks.'
Thus I became a madman.
And I have found both freedom of loneliness and the safety from
being understood, for those who understand us enslave something in
us.
But let me not be too proud of my safety. Even a Thief in a jail
is safe from another thief.
poem by Khalil Gibran
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No Matter How Old or Young
A mother forgives
A mother forgets.
No matter
How old
Or how young
She forgives
She forgets.
A mother forgives
A mother forgets.
She is always there.
No matter
How old
Or how young
She is always there.
A mother forgives
A mother forgets
A mother is always there.
A mother protects her young.
No matter
How old
Or how young
She always protects her young.
poem by Athena Goddess of Wisdom Lumis Light to all
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Mother Stands For Comfort
She knows that Ive been doing something wrong,
But she wont say anything.
She thinks that I was with my friends yesterday,
But she wont mind me lying,
Because
Mother stands for comfort.
Mother will hide the murderer.
It breaks the cage, and fear escapes and takes possession,
Just like a crowd rioting inside.
(make me do this, make me do that, make me do this, make me do that...)
Am I the cat that takes the bird?
To her the hunted, not the hunter.
Mother stands for comfort.
Mother will hide the murderer.
Mother hides the madman.
Mother will stay mum.
Mother stands for comfort.
Mother will hide the murderer.
Mother hides the madman.
Mother will stay mum.
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And I Feel So Guilty
today she buys a rotten apple
she says it is hard for her to notice
the market is crowded and she is in a hurry
she also buys canned goods in bulk
whose dates on the label have already expired
she says it is hard for her to notice
the mall is crowded and she is in a hurry
she has this usual style of repeating lines
when caught in the midst of her stupidities
but i do not let any stone unturned and i
ask her why she is in a hurry
she is in a hurry to be back home
she says she misses me
she says she is cooking dinner for me
she says she is stupid enough to have ever loved me
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Crowded
Crowded
Spirits walking on the roofs
no fear to fall or slide
no spirit of the dead
that did ever die
it's really crowded in the sky
and crowded in the streets
spouses and sprouts in all houses
crowded in my head am I
crowded in the underground
crowded in my ears
look what i have found;
my face crowded in tears.
Madrason 21 08-2009
poem by Madrason writer
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Madman 92 Re-mix
Disneyland is the place to be, cmon baby, just you and me;
Hand in hand, to disneyland, we go! not slow;
Happiest place, in the world til the madman grabs a girl;
Hand in hand, with the madman, she goes! oh oh!
Chorus
Knife gleamin no feelins, axe wieldin, child stealin,
Madman is loose.... in disneyland (in disneyland)
Come here little girl if you wanna see, peter pans magic flight on l.s.d.
Up and down, all around, we go! whoa oh!
Repeat chorus
Madman is loose in disneyland; hes back here by popular demand;
Madman is loose in disneyland; hell take no lip but hell take your head!
Surprise, surprise, Im comin at ya live;
I sure as hell aint mickey mouse, Im a killer in disguise
You can run and you can hide;
But you aint gettin away cause I got you in my sight;
Axe wieldn, child stealin;
Im a mad mother and Im loose!... in disneyland!
Have you heard the news, madman sure is loose,
Got you by the noose, have his way with you;
Nothin you can do, headline in the news,
Madman sure is loose in disneyland.
Disneyland is the place to be, in california, by the sea;
Sunny day, were a.o.k., for now, and how;
Repeat chorus
song performed by by Ugly Kid Joe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Little Boy In My Hometown
a little boy
finds the house too crowded
his father beats his
mother in the kitchen
where fish is
grilled
his sisters pull each
other's hair
in the living room
where he wants
to read
his brother breaks the
chair and throws plates
over the window
when no money is
given
it is like the house
is always on fire
and there is not even
a pail of water
and so the little boy
wants to run away
but there is no other
place
as the town is also
too crowded for itself
people are shouting
and beating each other
the park is neither
a peaceful place to
stay as bullies too
overcrowd there
and so the little boy
climbs a tree and
finally
finds a very cool place
to pray.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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To Turn The Stone
The moon retreats behind a silver cloud
As darkness throws its cloak towards the earth
And mystery replaces what thought we knew
To turn the stone, to turn the stone
The one dimension only shows one side
But do we see the same through different eyes
As you and I peer into lifes kaleidoscope
To turn the stone, to turn the stone
Eternal sands of time shift endlessly
Behind a veil of motionless disguise
An eyelid flash is all it really seems to need
To turn the stone, to turn the stone
To turn the stone, to turn the stone
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Afternoon
a woman with a long black hair
sweeps the road
using a coconut broom
three children pass by
and suddenly throws a stone
to the mango tree
a motorcycle speeds its way
from the market
a dog crosses the street
the little girl runs after
we hear a screeching sound of the
brakes
and that is how the case starts
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Dream With You
(doug hopkins? )
? lays in the dark all day
She waits for the sun to go down
And in her novel we appear
To change her moods around
Well she forgets you now
Well she forgets you now
And girls like that they own the world
Theyll sell you what you need
On languid streets you search for her so ? in her sleep
Well she leads you on
Well she leads you on
Dream with you
Well she could only dream with you
And the distance keeps her warm
Her letters talk of things shes seen
Her silence what shes learned
Reminsce and drink with them
To hasten her return
Well she forgets you now
Well she forgets you now
Well she forgets you now
Well she forgets you now
Dream with you
Well she could only
And the distance keeps her warm
Dream with you
Well she could only
And the distance keeps her warm
Dream with you...
song performed by by Gin Blossoms
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A madman drops a stone in a well, but forty wise men cannot take it out.
This is Not Poetry
This isn't poetry
These are just the ramblings of a madman.
poetry is written by educated men, about deep thoughts, splashed with
color and sprinkeld with verses that I can't even understand.
but this is not poetry,
These are just the ramblings of man barely sane, dancing on the razor sharp edge
of madness, flirting with insanity, mumbling to the friends I created long ago,
dancing with these vague ethreal beings that lurk beneath the glaze
of my tortued and red rimmed eyes.....and liking it.
Poetry is written by great men, but I'm am not great
Poetry is written by wise men who can string together rythmic impassioned words
that soften the heart, and ease the troubled soul, but I am not wise,
Poetry is written by men of deep feeling but my feelings, have been numbed
by whatever chemestry prescribed or not, attempting to numb the stinging acid
of the hateful words aimed always at me.
Poetry is written by people with great thoughts,
but my thoughts remain hidden, and buried.
Buried in pain, and rejection. and in the hooded eyes of the strangers,
that whisper as they pass me on the street, and yes even anguish, did you
know I was capable of that?
This is not poetry... I wonder what is.
These are just the ramblings of a madman
If I could peel away the calouses that surround my aching heart and expose the
hot volcanic passion that hides lying within, would it suddenly become poetry?
or would it still be the ramblings of a madman, danceing on the edge of sanity
and liking so much the dance?
I thrill to this madness, the insane dances are my best moves. Money I have
none, and meals even less I have my madness and the voices of the damned that
struggle to stay alive beneath my pasty skin. This is not poetry, this is madness,
I dont get poetry.
You laugh at me, and I laugh at you laughing at me,
laughing at the aching madness that paints the lines on my angry wretched face
I don't think this is poetry. Do you?
This is just a taste of my madness. I wonder what would poetry demand of me?
If I opened up a vein and let my blood flow down my chest and fill the cracks
in the sidewalk that spell out my name would that be more poetic?
If I shook and cried and begged while tears rolI down my face I wonder if that
would that reach you? Would that be poetry?
If I tore off a piece of my tortured soul and threw it at your restless feet,
would that be poetry? I wonder, if I could die of anguish right here before you,
would you call that poetic? But no, these things
would still be the angry ramblings of a madman thrilled with the anguish of my
chosen life and living alone with the pain with which it rewards me
And liking it more than you could ever know............Hey can you spare a quarter?
poem by Wilfred Owen Bitner
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There is only one difference between a madman and me. The madman thinks he is sane. I know I am mad.
quote by Salvador Dali
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sometimes She Forgets
If you see her out tonight
And she tells you that it's just the lights
That bring her here and not her loneliness
That's what she says but sometimes she forgets
If she tells you she don't need a man
She's had all the comfort she can stand
You best believe every word she says
But don't give up 'cause sometimes she forgets
And sometimes she forgets that not too long ago she swore
She wasn't gonna let her heart be broken anymore
So now she keeps it locked away
And it grows colder everyday
And it won't warm to any man's caress
That's what she says but sometimes she forgets
And sometimes she forgets that not too long ago she swore
She wasn't gonna let her heart be broken anymore
If you see her out tonight
And she tells you that it's just the lights
That bring her here and not her loneliness
That's what she says but sometimes she forgets
Yeah, that's what she says, but sometimes she forgets
So don't you dare give up 'cause sometimes she forgets
song performed by by Travis Tritt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Was
It was a moonless night
It was an empty sky
It was a bad excuse
I was the only fool in sight
It was a crazy thought
A madman's walk
It was
It was a moonless night
It was an empty sky
It was a bad excuse
I was the only fool in sight
It was a crazy thought
A madman's walk
It was
I had a wandering eye
She had a better time
It was a twisted thought
A black cat came to mind
She was a crazy thought
A madman's walk
She was
She was a long way home
Walking broken bones
It was wrong or right
How deep that knife could go
It was a crazy thought
A madman's walk it was
It was a crazy thought
A madman's walk it was
She was the hangman's noose
I was the fool, I was
Oh, I was
Yeah baby...I was
song performed by by Kenny Wayne Shepherd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Would Alexander, madman as he was, have been so much a madman, had it not been for Homer?
quote by Samuel Richardson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Mother
“The Mother”
She’s known as the mother
But, she doesn’t act like a mother
No love
No love
You’ll never see her show it
Only her madness
Never hugs
Never kisses
Never loves
Never
Noone knows what she needs to make her happy
She’s a careless and unhappy woman
She only has time for herself
No second thoughts about others
The mother
I’ve heard of her
But, where is she?
The real mother?
poem by Latedra Ellis
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